Have A Care
by IntoTheWilds
Summary: ONE-SHOT: For SpencerRemyLvr!: Spencer ends up taking a sick day-reluctantly and it's Remy to the rescue...


DISCLAIMER: **I do not own X-Men/Criminal Minds or their characters!**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: **This is for SpencerRemyLvr! I hope you like it kitten! I used Spencer's powers and a smidge of his background from 'friends without benefits' for this prompt and I loved writing it!**

**If you want to find me my flowers, I'm on facebook at Intothewilds Fanfiction (Emza) Look me up! :)**

**Later!**

**IntoTheWilds**

**xxxx**

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><p>He could make it, he could make it he could <em>maaaaaake<em> it! Ah hell, no he couldn't. Giving up the vicious fight with his tie Spencer Reid just gave into what his wobbly legs wanted and landed firmly on his ass. A pained groan and mild whimper escaped him and the young mutant was slightly disgusted by that. His usually bright blue irises and silver pupiled eyes were dulled horribly, his pallor that of a corpse. Splotches of crimson were the only colour present on his clammy face and a constant tremble ran through the genius' body. Every inch of his skin throbbed, he ached down to his bone marrow and in a moment of pure dramatics Spencer begged for death. The petulantly childish moment lasted all of five point four seconds before Spencer forcefully dragged himself to his feet and on shaky footing went in search of his phone. Any other day he would have just reached out with his energy and located it, but considering the state of his fever addled brain, Spencer knew such a thing would in no way end well. A particular event from when he was seventeen came to mind and was enough to make him cringe.

Where was he? Ah, the living-room. Was it a fever induced thing that he could barely remember venturing from his bedroom to here? It most likely was. Limbs stiff Spencer moved cushions and the odd book in hopes of finding his phone. His temples pulsed, the pain travelling into his face from his blocked nose and a rasp rattled horribly in his chest. With another fit of sneezing and coughing, Spencer whimpered when his headache only grew and his achy chest muscles cramped in protest. Angrily he tossed a book aside and continued in his search. It was amazing. The day before he had been perfectly fine and yet he had woken that morning barely able to get out of bed. Spencer eventually found his accursed cell phone when the Dr Who theme tune wafted up from over beside his bookcase. Spencer rolled his eyes. He had forgotten he had left it there to charge and cursed his fever for muddling him so bad.

"Reid," the youth answered flinching at the sound of his voice. He sounded as if he had swallowed rusted nails and somebody was pinching his nose closed.

_"Hey man,"_ Morgan greeted from the other side cautiously obviously noticing something was up, _"you okay kid, you don't sound too good?"_

In all his years, between school and work, Spencer had never—willingly—taken a sick day. But even he had to admit when standing was even a bit much, you needed to raise a white flag. "I feel like hell." The genius moaned helplessly. "I've caught that wretched flu Henry had last week!"

_"Ah man, poor you,"_ Morgan said genuinely sympathetic, _"I was calling to see if you wanted a ride to work, but clearly you need to get your butt back into bed. Need anyone to come over?"_

"No, just let Hotch know I'm too sick to go in today. It's just paper work anyway, I can catch up." Spencer paused for a fit of coughing and cursed his powers for the umpteenth time since he got up. He could heal anything, ANYTHING, bar simple viruses like flu or common cold. "Please downplay it for Garcia as much as possible. I love her, but I am really not in the mood to be mothered. I just want to go back to bed and possibly die."

Morgan chuckled, _"So dramatic, you'd know you didn't get sick often." _

"Ha! That's rich! Pot calling the kettle black Morgan, or need I remind you of three months ago?"

_"Alright youngster that's enough out of you,"_ Morgan chided in a teasing tone, _"Take something for the fever you no doubt have, get back to bed and even if you eat nothing, drink plenty of water. Flu and dehydration together is not something you need to experience."_

"Got it, thanks Morgan."

_"Later, kid."_

Hanging up Spencer stumbled to the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of water from his refrigerator. Pressing it to his volcanic heated cheek he groaned in relief when the cold soothed his fever and taking a spoonful of cold medicine the frazzled genius stripped down to an oversized NYU t-shirt and his boxers before crawling into bed and wishing the world away. It took a bit, but Spencer _eventually_ drifted into an uneasy sleep.

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><p><strong>\.+.**

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><p>Remy LeBeau could feel his lover's discomfort the second he entered his apartment building. Spencer was projecting and clearly didn't know he was. It surprised the Cajun, but then again he had never seen him sick, so he had no idea what the boy's powers got up to when he was. Powers like Spencer's were tricky. Linked to emotions they could cause great issue when the owner wasn't up to par and in the case of Spencer his energy absorption ability could lead to a few interesting things depending on the genius' mind set and the closer he got to his lover's front door the higher he had to yank up his shields. Spencer was no empath, but he was an empaths nightmare when his control wavered because he accidently enhanced his emotions. It was also an easy tell for Remy when he needed to know if Spencer was upset. Right now, however, he wished he couldn't feel his lover's obvious pain. So much for surprising him with a weekend away, he had barely set foot in Quantico when Morgan was calling to let him know his boy was ill. Oh well. He'd have just as much fun taking care of Spencer. Despite how long he had known him, Remy had never seen him sick, so he was filing this away as a relationship first.<p>

Rummaging for his keys the Cajun let himself into the apartment and was quick to note the slight mess. There were books strewn over the couch, the curtains were still closed and by the feel of it Spencer had his heating on full blast. Taking off his coat Remy tossed it over the nearest armchair and smiled, looking down when something soft rubbed against his legs. He grinned down at the cat he had gotten Spencer the Christmas previous. She was a pretty long haired moggy who was snow white accept for her tail which was oddly grey with a gold hue through it. Her eyes were what Remy had been intrigued by when he first saw her at the rescue centre, one blue and one green, that and her obviously very friendly disposition.

"Hey dere Persephone," the Cajun greeted bending to scoop up the mewling animal, "hungry are y'? I guess y'r po' master is just t' sick t' t'ink on such t'ings right now, but don't y' worry none."

Remy's need to talk to Persephone—hell any animal—like a person always amused Spencer no end. In the beginning he would frown and point out that they didn't understand like humans did, but Remy would smile, ignore him and do it anyway and when he had gotten the brunette the cat, his perception had changed somewhat. Spencer talked to Persephone all the time and simply adored her, which was funny since he had nearly had heart failure at the sight of her that Christmas morning. Rooting out the dry cat food Remy located Persephone's dish and gave it a quick clean before filling the measure and pouring it into the pink food bowl. Persephone licked her lips watching Remy's every move and practically fell on the dish when it was finally placed before her. Chuckling Remy gave the cat one final stroke, refilled her water dish and made his way toward Spencer's bedroom.

The room was like a furnace, the curtains shut tight and wrapped in a cocoon of blankets was what Remy presumed his Spencer. Wincing at the feel of pain that wafted out from beneath the bed clothes Remy approached the bed and sat down. Reaching out he pulled back some of the layers until he eventually found Spencer. He was dressed in one of his t-shirts and curled up into a tight ball. Tissues laid scattered here and there, one clutched tight in his fist and Remy could just about feel the heat burning off the boy's flushed skin. Reaching out with his empathy he tried to gently wake him, but Spencer was completely unresponsive and that would've panicked Remy if the Cajun hadn't dealt with his fair share of fevers.

To state the obvious he had to get Spencer cooled down and to start with Remy removed every blanket off his person tossing them all near the hamper. The curtains were opened next and the windows opened, followed by the heating going off. Pottering into the bathroom the Cajun groaned and hoped Spencer knew exactly how much he loved him with what he was about to do. Spencer's apartment didn't have a bath, so the shower would have to do. Stripping himself first, Remy ventured back into the bedroom and carefully removed Spencer's clothing. Despite the odd whimper the boy didn't really respond and lifting his lanky body Remy carried him into his small ensuite. It was rather awkward, but he managed to get them both into the shower and holding Spencer one armed the Cajun reached out, fiddled with the temperature dial and hit ON. The rush of icy water made Remy yip and curse. After a moment he could ignore it and holding Spencer's feverish body against him, the Cajun let the frosty liquid flow over his body. It took almost fifteen minutes to rouse Spencer and a pang went through Remy's heart when the boy let out a distressed sob, struggling in his arms.

"Easy Penny easy," Remy crooned cuddling the smaller man to him, "I'm sorry _bébé_, but y'r fever was so high, I needed t' get it down."

"R-Remy," Spencer croaked tipping his head back to get a better look. Shivering he smiled weakly, his eyes horribly glassy. "Morgan called you?"

"Yes, but I was actually in Quantico already. I wanted t' surprise y' with a weekend away," he shrugged a shoulder, "no big deal of course, we can do it another time. Now out y' gets _petit_, dats it."

Spencer robotically did as he was told. Every movement was one big ordeal and though the cold shower had lessened the fever, he still felt awful. No matter how hard he tried the whimpers kept wiggling their way free. Bless Remy's heart. He did everything he could to make it all ache less and before Spencer knew it he was in fresh pyjamas and wrapped up in a blanket on the couch. Remy braided back his hair to keep it out of his face and when Spencer still insisted he was cold he turned back on the heating.

"Not gonna turn it up t' high Penny. Don't want y'r fever getting t' high again. Come here."

Spencer jerked away from the electronic thermometer, "Ow, Remy!"

"Oh don't be such a baby Penny," Remy teased before scowling at the small machine, "No wonder I couldn't wake y'! Y'r temperature is at one hundred and one, which means it was slightly higher before de cold shower!"

Spencer blinked at him innocently, "I didn't think it was that bad."

"Y'r a bad liar brat," Remy retorted with a shake of his head, "next time y' call someone y' hear? Y'r lucky I was coming by!"

Spencer flinched. He deserved the slight flare of temper. He knew the fever had been steadily getting worse and yet he chose to ignore it and with the facts he knew on neglected a fever that was highly stupid of him. At some point Persephone had joined him and curled up by his right hip a deep purr rumbling through her body. Usually the feline would climb up Spencer and coil up on his shoulder, but she obviously knew he wasn't well and was trying to be gentle with him. With a soft smile he reached down and found her favourite spot near her left ear to give a good scratch.

"I'm amazed," Remy said returning with a fresh bottle of water and placing it within Spencer's reach, "y' actually has full cupboards."

Spencer pouted petulantly, "Despite what you may often think Remy Etienne LeBeau, I do shop for myself thank you _very_ much!"

"Yeah _bébé_, when y' remember which isn't often."

"You're so lucky I'm too sick to hurt you right now."

Amused Remy bent and kissed Spencer sweetly. His feverish skin was slick with clammy sweat and crustiness had developed around his nose from the numerous times Spencer had used tissues. Remy placed a tender kiss to it and nuzzled his cheek.

"I'll go make y' some soup, it'll perk y' right up."

"You could just kill me."

Barking out a laugh at Spencer's dramatic statement Remy ventured back into the kitchen rooting around until he had everything he wanted. Humming to himself the Cajun began chopping and cooking, butter hitting the pan with a sizzle which was quickly followed by vegetables, stock, lentils for protein and a pinch of chilli powder to give it a kick to burn away any flu. Leaving it all to simmer in the pot Remy headed back to the living-room and made his way across to Spencer's DVD collection. Picking the latest Star Trek movie, he stuck it on and joined his lover on the couch, pulling his feet into his lap. Spencer a moment later let out a content moan when Remy began massaging them, locating the sore spots borne from practice.

"Y' know y' got sick cause y' ran y'rself into de ground right?"

Spencer rolled his eyes and coughed a little, "Are you actually lecturing me?"

"_Non_ Penny, just statin' de obvious, me and y' know it's true _bébé_, otherwise y' wouldn't respond so testily."

"Sometimes it's spooky how well you know me."

Remy laughed and moved to kiss Spencer's scowling brow. They fell into silence, Spencer half sleepy watching the movie while Remy worked his way from his feet to his calves, doing what he could to remove the tension cemented there. Spencer eventually drifted off to sleep and carefully moving his long coltish legs Remy went to check on the soup. He was happy to find it was perfectly done and moved it off the hob. Spencer could have it when he had woken from his nap.

Of course the nap wasn't to last long. Remy had barely turned it off when a tremor ran through him. With a curse he bolted back to the living-room to find Spencer in the throes of a nightmare and his powers going haywire. The cat had bolted for fear of her life and anything electronic was swiftly overloading. Throwing a burst of love over their shared link Remy used all he could to calm Spencer down. Thankfully, since he wasn't that deeply asleep, it was quite easy. Spencer surged awake with a sharp yelp. The lights pulsed one last time and finally simmered down and with emotions reeled back in Remy could breathe.

"S-Sorry," Spencer hastily apologised like he tended to do after every nightmare.

Remy rolled his eyes and sat down, "y' has not'ing t' apologise f'r Penny. It was a dream and being ill y' couldn't control y'rself like y' normally do. Y' wanna talk about it _bébé_?"

Spencer swallowed heavily, "Just from before...When I...When I was a kid, God his face."

Remy swallowed the colourful cuss that wanted to worm free and pulled Spencer onto his lap. Needing the comfort Spencer burrowed in. Remy didn't know much about that time in Spencer's life, just that for a longer period then he would've liked, Spencer was held against his will and he suffered most horribly for it. For a time Spencer dosed, comfy and content in Remy's arms and when Remy finally moved him he whined with discontent.

"Hush up Penny," Remy teased playfully, "gonna go get y' a bowl of my fine soup, it'll help with y'r stuffy head and fill y'r belly."

Spencer settled back onto the couch and without Remy's body to keep him warm, he wrapped the thick blanket about himself flinching when another bout of coughing stole over him. Glugging down water he cursed that persistent tickle that kept nagging at him. Persephone had returned at some point and had found a nice spot curled up in the armchair across from the couch. Clearly she wasn't ready to approach Spencer yet in case of another flare up. Thank God his powers would burn the illness out faster than normal. He'd be sick three possibly four days as opposed to ten which was the norm. When a steaming bowl was held in front of him Spencer accepted it gratefully. He was three spoons in—hungrier than he thought he'd be—when he noticed Remy had pulled out the vacuum and duster.

"Rems, what are you doing?"

"Cleaning _bébé_, dere's not'in worse dan being sick and unable t' keep t'ings tidy."

"Yeah but, I can do it when I'm better!" Spencer protested feverishly which only earned him a scowl and nothing more. Remy went about his cleaning regardless.

Rolling his eyes Spencer stirred the soup and began eating again. At first his stomach cramped in protest but thankfully settled down and Spencer happily devoured the mildly spiced soup. Remy made short work of the cleaning. It wasn't as if it was a messy anyway. Just a sweep of the vacuum, a bit of dusting, some organisation of Spencer's books and the place was pretty much pristine. Returning to the couch Remy plucked the empty bowl from Spencer's hands and kissed his temple before heading toward the kitchen. Spencer didn't bother protesting this time. Instead he put his energy into getting off the couch to go to the bathroom. The shake in his step was scary, but Spencer knew with Remy about he had nothing to worry about. The trek to the bathroom was going at the speed of a ninety year old man with severe arthritis, but Spencer managed it. When he got back to the living-room, Remy had put on Avatar and had made hot cocoa, a small bowl of marshmallows left out on the coffee table.

"I coulda carried y' Penny," Remy said shaking his head in exasperation.

"No thank you," Spencer grimaced snuggling back beneath his comforter, "I'd like to retain some dignity if you please." Sniffing in a blocked manner the Genius reached for a tissue and blew. It was painful, but cleared him up some although the contents of his Kleenex were enough to make him gag. Running through possibilities of infection he really, REALLY hoped he wouldn't end up going to the doctor. That was something he greatly wanted to avoid.

Remy settled the steaming mug into Spencer's hand. Spencer snuggled back into the couch, content and sipped at his cocoa. It was odd, being minded like this. He never had anyone to watch over him when he had been ill. His mother had always been too ill and as an adult he rarely got sick, and if he did, it was minor enough he could nurse it himself. A warm feeling filled him and with a soft smile Spencer moved pressing a kiss to Remy's cheek before burrowing in. Remy was a little surprised, but he said nothing. He just settled into his lover's warmth and filled him with his love.

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><p><strong>\.+.**

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><p>"Baby girl," Derek groaned exasperated following Garcia into Spencer's apartment later that evening, "Pretty boy won't be happy. He doesn't want to be coddled and I told you Remy was heading over!"<p>

Garcia scoffed, "He needs a mama bear, not a man who—"

Garcia came to an abrupt stop in mild surprise. Persephone was curled up in her pet bed and the apartment was spotless. Setting down the bag of goodies she had brought she looked about and noticed Spencer's favorite blanket on the couch. Garcia had made it for him her first Christmas at the bureau. Ignoring Morgan's warning the bubbly blonde drifted toward Spencer's bedroom and found the door slightly ajar. Nudging it open Garcia stopped in the doorway and let out a small, "Aww!"

Morgan stopped beside her and couldn't help but smile. Remy looked beat and was sprawled sleeping soundly beneath a snoozing Spencer and even in sleep his fingers were lazily running up and down Spencer's slim back. Every now and again Spencer coughed and his cheeks were still red with fever, but he was okay.

"See mama," Derek whispered, "I told you he was in good hands!"

"Yeah, yeah, I can see that."

With a soft smile and promising to get Remy the biggest hamper of goodies imaginable, Garcia closed the door gently and followed Morgan back to the door. Her baby boy was in good hands and that was good enough for her.


End file.
